Cooperation Chaos
by Sassy SOBettes
Summary: *DONE!* When two of their mutual friends are at odds, it is up to Cassius Warrington and Fallon Anderson to *gasp* work together! Will they succeed in their mission, or just kill each other first? Chaptered SOB-fic!
1. Undiplomatic Alliance

Notes: Yes dears, it's another SOB-fic from yours truly. Happy New Year!

Disclaimer: They're _all_ mine! _EVERYTHING_ is mine! ::cackle:: Okay, okay... fine. I don't own the universe... yet.

~          ~          ~

            The Slytherin Common Room was, contrary to popular belief around the school, not a place where cannibalistic dark orgies took place every Friday night. The furniture was made of ebony, and silver-tasseled green velvet, not gnawed and splintered human bones. And the students, though they had their weekly strip-poker tournaments, did not spend their time plotting how to set innocent little first-years on fire. Usually. 

            Indeed, Slytherins, though conniving, cynical, and mildly (or sometimes extremely) naughty, were a fairly cultured, sophisticated, elegant bunch, and fairly benevolent amongst themselves. Well, the sarcastic bantering aside.

            Except today, there seemed to be something wrong with the delicate, snarky balance of the green and silver world.

            Fallon Anderson, unchallenged Slytherin bitch-queen second to none, heard the screaming before she had even entered the Common Room. Raising an eyebrow, she uttered the password (_"Les Fleurs du Mal"_) and walked in.

            Standing in the middle of the Common Room, shouts competing for each other in volume, were Ravyn De Borgia and Draco Malfoy. The generally-acknowledged Princess and Prince of Slytherin House were at each other's throats.

            And before Fallon's astonished eyes, her friend Ravyn stalked up to her adored boyfriend, and slapped him across the face before whirling around and storming to her dormitory. A moment later, Malfoy, his pale cheek reddened by the slap, stormed off as well. Neither of them even noticed Fallon.

            Interesting. And highly disturbing.

            But Fallon was not the fearless leader of a large group of Slytherin girls for nothing. She would figure out what was going on, whether she should interfere or simply emasculate Malfoy for upsetting Ravyn, and if she were to interfere, how she would go about doing so in a cunning and dignified fashion.

*          *          *

            Just as Fallon was about to go to the girls' dormitory and seek out Ravyn for some answers, someone else walked into the Common Room. The someone else was tall, dark, and handsome. He also happened to take a sort of perilous pleasure in deliberately infuriating Fallon on a fairly regular basis. Why he had not been murdered in his bed by said Slytherin bitch was something of a mystery, although popular belief ran that their sniping was simply a mask for a strange sort of mutual attraction: Fallon was gorgeous, with a sleek, catlike grace, waist-length dark hair and fiery dark eyes, although her somewhat aggressive and acerbic nature prevented most from ever voicing any attraction to her. However, it was quite possible that in her heart, she appreciated a man who didn't scare easily. Said man, Cassius Warrington, was a year above Fallon, and a Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch Team. It would be only natural that the Quidditch team's most smart-arsed Chaser would love a challenge of such proportions (in every sense of the word) as the beautiful and belligerent girl. 

            Of course, no one in Slytherin house ever voiced these beliefs within earshot of the two in question. Slytherins are known for their cunning and ambitious pragmatism, and not for the reckless masochistic courageous insanity that characterized the Gryffindors that most of them so richly scorned. Private betting pools aside, Fallon Anderson and Cassius Warrington were left alone to go their merry way and have their witty repartee unstopped.

            Right now, Warrington was frowning darkly. As there were no first-year students from other houses to terrorize, Fallon was rather curious as to why he wore a scowl. But before she could ask, he answered her unspoken question with one of his own.

            "Who shoved a broomstick up Malfoy's arse?"

            "Unpleasant mental image, Warrington," Fallon rolled her eyes somewhat, "I came in, and he and Ravyn were going at it."

            "You... walked in on them shagging?" Warrington gave her a look of disbelief, "Is _that_ why he just barreled into me, swore in two different languages, and then stormed off, pouting like somebody had just blown up his kitty-cat?"

            "_NO!_ You men... your minds are too bent in one direction..." Fallon muttered to herself, a discontented look on her face. Warrington sniggered.

            "Ha! I bet if they were... truly... _bent_, it wouldn't work very well."

            Fallon shot him a scathing look, "Very funny, Warrington. I meant... when I came in, they were having a flaming row in the middle of the Common Room. I could hear them before I even opened up the portrait. Honestly, if they were screaming _any_ louder, one would be able to hear them from the bloody Astronomy Tower. Then she slapped her, and both of them stomped off. No idea why, though."

            "Maybe Malfoy's discovered that he has a taste for sadomasochism?" Warrington ventured. 

            Fallon gave him another one of her "tell-me-again-why-you-are-not-in-the-mental-ward-at-St.-Mungo's?" looks. "Then, wouldn't he have been happy instead of pouting and swearing?"

            "True, I suppose," Warrington conceded, "How bad was the argument? Think it'll blow over by dinnertime?'

            Fallon shook her head, "No... they were really angry at each other. Worse than our worst arguments to date. And they're supposed to be _dating _each other."

            Warrington chuckled, "That's why _we're_ not dating, hmm?"

            Giving him a smile all the more menacing for its seraphic sweetness, Fallon bared her teeth and purred, "Well... yes. And there's also the fact that you'd find yourself hospitalized within 48 hours, right?"

            "Yes, that too," Warrington agreed fervently. Fallon smirked at him, then her face became discontent.

            "Something must be done about this situation with Ravyn and Malfoy, though. And fast."

            "I suppose," Warrington shrugged.

            "No, I'm quite serious. Something must be done as soon as possible," Fallon muttered, narrowing her eyes slightly, "Otherwise, she's going to out-bitch me if this problem is not eradicated!"

            "Oh, how utterly _terrible_ that would be... a real tragedy," Warrington rolled his eyes with a melodramatic sigh, "Of course, _that_ must be prevented at all costs!"

            Fallon matched his sneer with a glare, "Oh, trust me, it would be in your best interests if this problem were solved as well. Otherwise, you'd have to deal with a petulant Quidditch captain. Well... even more petulant than usual."

            Warrington nodded thoughtfully, "You do have a point there. So... what do we do?"

            Fallon's eyes took on a calculating gleam, "Well, we solve this problem, of course. Well... we hope that they will solve their own problem, but if they're not going to be mature about it, we will speed the process along."

            "Considering the people in question, I daresay we will be doing a lot of 'speeding'," Warrington muttered.

            "Yes. Bloody terrific. We're going to have to..." Fallon paused, and grimaced in distaste, "_work together..._"

            "They really owe us one."

            "Indeed."

*          *          *

            Really, they had no idea what they were going into.


	2. Mission Clarification

Chapter 2!

Disclaimers still apply. Blah.

~          ~          ~

            "All right. So... I shall talk to Ravyn and get her side of the story. You should do the same," Fallon said coolly as she stood up from her spot on the couch.

            "I don't know Ravyn that well, why should I talk to her?" Warrington said impertinently. Fallon glared.

            "I _meant_ you should talk to _Malfoy_! Stop being an arse!"

            "Awww, but it's so much _FUN!!_" Warrington put on a mock-pout and whinged. 

            "For you, perhaps. _I_ don't find it fun to put up with you being an immature prat, it irritates me to no end!" Fallon huffed as she swept out of the Common Room for the girls' dormitories. Cassius Warrington grinned after her retreating back.

            "That's a good part of the fun."

*          *          *

            Fallon found Ravyn in the 5th year girls' dormitory, sprawled on her bed, her face buried in the pillow. The older girl cleared her throat softly. "What happened?"

            Ravyn's voice was muffled by the pillow, but the fury in it was unmistakable. "That... sodding... _SCUM!_"

            Fallon raised an eyebrow, and walked over, sitting herself down at the foot of the bed. "Explain?"

            Ravyn huffed, her face still buried in the pillow, "I don't _have_ to explain... what he did was _INEXCUSABLE_ and there's no explanation necessary for it! _Charogne!"_

            Fallon blinked, "Er... so... I gather that it was bad enough that you now feel the need to swear at him in French because simple English isn't nasty enough. Now... beyond that, I don't know a thing about what happened. Care to enlighten me?"

            Ravyn's dark head flew up from the pillow, her pretty face pale with fury and her green eyes suspiciously bright, "Fallon... we're friends, right?"

            "Yes," Fallon nodded at the other girl, "We've hopefully established that fact over the past five or so years. Now... tell your friend here what happened?"

            "Would you _please_ do me a favor, since you are my friend and all, and kick Draco bloody Malfoy in the groin then? Lousy, lying prat!"

            Fallon smiled wryly, "I'm afraid that that won't solve anything, dear. Rendering him impotent will only make him more high-pitched in the long run. And besides... even _I_ would need a reason to do that to a bloke. Especially one from my own house."

            To her surprise and alarm, Ravyn burst into angry tears, once again burying her face in the pillow. Through the muffled weeping, Fallon was able to discern the words "Parkinson", "snog" and "bastard". She sighed.

            Bloody terrific. Once again heartily glad that she was not involved in anything of the sort, Fallon sighed.

            "Did you... confront him about it?"

            Ravyn's head nodded on the pillow, and her muffled voice came out once again, "He said that I was being daft."

            "And...?"

            But Ravyn did not seem to have anything more to say. Disjointed curses and requests for Fallon to poison, injure or otherwise make life miserable for Draco Malfoy aside, the 5th year girl was silent.

            Fallon left the room a while later with a promise to bring her friend some food from the kitchen later, and a hope that Warrington was somewhat more successful at getting information from Malfoy.

*          *          *

            Warrington was, in fact, having even less success with Draco than she'd had with Ravyn. He'd followed the blond boy outside, and had asked casually if he were outside to play Quidditch. Draco had scowled, and told him to bugger off; he wanted to be alone. 

            Warrington had asked him what was wrong, but nothing comprehensible came out of the younger boy's mouth. Muttering something about "tetchy twits" and girls being daft, he'd taken to the air, and pointedly ignored Warrington.

            After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Warrington shrugged and walked back into the castle. 

            That evening, Ravyn, predictably, did not show up for dinner. Draco Malfoy did show up, but he was morose, and sat alone and somewhat removed from the rest of the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle stayed away, warned by their boss' malevolent looks not to approach him. The two goons absorbed themselves with seeing who could stuff his face the quickest and most, and did not approach Draco. Pansy, looking unusually malicious and smug, _did_ approach Draco, only to be snapped at and roughly shoved away. She fell rather ungracefully on top of Millicent Bulstrode, her arm knocking Fallon's pumpkin juice glass over, spilling it all over the tablecloth.

            "Watch it, Parkinslut!" Fallon snapped, "That was even more ungraceful than your usual standard... haven't you learned by now that obesity and high heels don't mix?"

            "Shut up, Anderson," Pansy muttered, not meeting the other girl's eyes, "You wear high heels."

            "All the better to kick you, my dear," Fallon said in a false sweet voice, "And moreover, you missed my point. I said _obesity_ and high heels don't mix. Or perhaps you don't understand the word. Figures... go and dunk your greasy bleach-blonde hair in a toilet or something and stop causing irritation to the rest of us." Saying so, Fallon turned pointedly away from Pansy, signifying the end of the exchange, and reached in her pocket with one hand, while addressing Cassius Warrington, who sat a few seats away across.

            "Warrington, pass the pumpkin juice."

            Cassius Warrington pushed the pitcher of pumpkin juice over towards Fallon, and as the girl took it from him, she slipped a scrap of parchment into his hand. 

            Sitting back down, Warrington glanced down at the scrap of parchment. Written on it, in Fallon's sharp, angular script, were the words, "Kitchen, eight o'clock."

            He caught Fallon's eyes, and gave a discreet nod.

            Fallon allowed herself a grim smile. All right. To rendezvous with her partner-in-crime and see what progress has been made on their mission. And hopefully not end up taking a kitchen knife to him in the process.

~          ~          ~

More soon!


	3. Rendezvous of Allies

Chapter 3!  
Disclaimers still apply. Suing incites smiting. So don't.  
  
~~~  
  
At exactly a quarter to eight, Fallon left the Common Room for the kitchens, giving Warrington a "follow-me-in-ten-minutes" look as she stepped out. He barely noticed, absorbed as he was in playing a chess game against fellow Chaser Alexander Montague.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Fallon found herself still alone in the kitchen save for the house-elves, and rapidly losing her very limited patience.   
  
"Winnie, bring me some chocolate-covered espresso beans."  
  
"Yes, Miss Fallon, miss. Winnie is bring you immediately!" the little creature ran off, and returned a moment later with a bowlful of crunchy caffeinated goodness. "Is Miss Fallon be needing anything else that Winnie can gets for her?"  
  
"A rolling pin," Fallon said calmly and evenly, her eyes riveted towards the entrance of the kitchen.   
  
Winnie, confused but obedient, left, and returned a few seconds later with a large wooden rolling pin. "Here you goes, Miss Fallon."  
  
"Thank you, that will be all," Fallon said with a slightly feral grin on her face, eyes still fixed on the door, as she took the rolling pin out of Winnie's spindly hands and placed it on her lap. She popped another espresso bean into her mouth, and waited.  
  
Two minutes later, the door opened, and Cassius Warrington walked in.  
  
Quick Chaser-honed reflexes notwithstanding, he only barely jumped out of the way as a rolling pin came hurtling through the air towards his head. It hit the door about an inch away from his left ear, and then smashed on the floor with a loud crash that made Winnie the house-elf squeal and duck under the table.  
  
Warrington raised an eyebrow and looked appraisingly at Fallon, who was sitting at the table, one dainty hand in the process of putting a chocolate-covered espresso bean from a bowl, into her mouth. The other hand, that had thrown the rolling pin at him, was clenched into a fist.  
  
"Good evening to you too, Anderson."  
  
"You're now eight minutes late, you arse," Fallon glared at him, "I do NOT like to be kept waiting."  
  
"My sincerest apologies, your highness," Warrington said mockingly, "Blimey, you're worse than Flint for Quidditch practices."  
  
"Well, Flint's punctuality is certainly appreciated! Akasha's going to become Mrs. Flint after she leaves, he must have been doing SOMETHING right!"  
  
"Perhaps that 'something' had more to do with his creative uses for her couch than his punctuality?" Warrington asked. Fallon scowled.  
  
"No wonder you don't have a girlfriend... OBVIOUSLY you don't know anything about what a girl wants."  
  
"That hurts... that hit me right here," Warrington put a hand over his heart and put on a tragic face. Fallon rolled her eyes.  
  
"Stop being silly, and let's get down to business," she nodded him to a seat at the table next to her, and he sat down. "So, have you found out anything about the lover's spat between Ravyn and Malfoy?" She slapped his hand away as he reached for the espresso beans, "And get your own food, that's mine!"  
  
Warrington rolled his eyes, "Stingy wench... say, someone get me some butterbeer and strawberries." Seconds later, another house elf, named Perky, placed a mug of warm butterbeer on the table in front of him, and a bowl of fresh strawberries. Warrington took a sip of his drink, and grinned at Fallon, "My food's more nutritious than yours, pet. You shouldn't take so much caffeine."  
  
"I'm not a bloody puffskein, don't call me 'pet'!" Fallon retorted, "And what do you know? There are evil schemes to dream up, idiotic blokes to reject and first-years to scare; I've lots of work to do, the caffeine's necessary."  
  
"If you say so," Warrington gave a snort, "And to answer your earlier question... Malfoy didn't say much. Just said something about 'tetchy twits'. What did you do to him?"  
  
"What do you MEAN what did I do him?! Ravyn mentioned something about Parkinson and snogging. I can only conclude that Malfoy snogged Parkinson. Although for the life of me, I can't see WHY... Say, you're a bloke, maybe you can explain it to me?"   
  
"Explain what? Snogging Parkinson? No idea... not something I would do, sorry to disappoint you," Warrington shrugged and wrinkled his nose slightly, "She's rather... well, maybe HE finds her attractive. I prefer brunettes myself. And she's rather... stupid."  
  
"My point exactly," Fallon continued, daintily eating more espresso beans, "Why the devil would he want to snog HER if he has Ravyn?"  
  
"Maybe she put him under the Imperius Curse?"  
  
"Not bloody likely," Fallon sneered, "I doubt that someone who can't even make a potion to get rid her acne would be able to cast the Imperius."  
  
"All right... so, WHY was Malfoy snogging her then? It doesn't exactly make sense," Warrington drained his butterbeer, and nibbled on a strawberry.   
  
"Damned if I know," Fallon muttered, "Ask him."  
  
"Like he'd tell me," Warrington scoffed, "I don't think that snogging Pansy Parkinson counts as a boast-worthy accomplishment.  
  
"Well, who knows? He might have the distinction of the first person this year caught red-handed in an act of bestiality."  
  
Warrington grimaced, "Your imagination knows no bounds, my dear."  
  
"First of all, I'm not yours or anyone else's 'dear'... and second of all, it doesn't take much imagination to visualize Parkinslut as some particularly heinous mutt produced from the union of a bulldog and a poodle."  
  
"Spare me," Warrington groaned, "Especially since I've seen her parents once. But... there's something wrong with this picture. Malfoy snogging Parkinson? If it were the other way around I'd believe it, bu---" His words were cut off as Fallon suddenly jumped up, her eyes sparkling.  
  
"That's IT! SHE must have snogged him! But why Ravyn would get angry at that, I have no idea... it's not like she doesn't know that the Parkinslut wants in Malfoy's trousers. I'll have to wait until she calms down some more and get the full story from her. And I should probably get going soon. Rolly, bring me a tray. And give me a sandwich: turkey on whole wheat, cheddar cheese, lettuce and tomato. Also a pot of green tea, and a pint of coffee ice cream, with chocolate chips." Fallon addressed yet another house-elf, who scampered off, bringing the ordered items in a flash.  
  
"All right, let's go," Fallon placed the foodstuffs on her tray, and cast a temporary freezing charm on the ice cream and a warming charm on the teapot. Warrington stood up after her, snatching the last few espresso beans from her bowl and popping them into his mouth. She gave him a dirty look, to which he smiled disarmingly, and offered her the last strawberry.  
  
"I've my hands full, git," Fallon glowered at him. Shrugging, Cassius Warrington walked right up to her, and made as to feed her the strawberry. She looked askance at him for a moment, then ate the fruit from his hand, and walked towards the door. He held it open for her, and the two of them walked out of the kitchen.  
  
"Say, what if a Prefect sees you with all that stuff? I mean, yes... people bring back food from the kitchens all the time, but not this blatantly."  
  
Fallon smirked, "Oh, don't worry. The only Prefect in this school who isn't scared of me is Morrigun, and SHE wouldn't take points. The others... well, they are certainly welcome to try to stop me."  
  
"I see your point," Warrington grinned, "So, next game we win, you'll use your... 'skills'... and bring me and the rest of the team seven bottles of butterbeer and a sheet cake, right?"  
  
"Dream on, Warrington... dream on."  
  
"I believe I will... remember to serve me breakfast in bed someday," He said jovially.  
  
"You'd better be prepared to be wearing your breakfast if that were the case," Fallon retorted. He laughed.  
  
"Even better! You, me, fruit, whipped cream..."  
  
"You're sick and wrong, and THIS close to getting a black eye," Fallon informed him matter-of-factly, "Just thought you'd like to know." They reached the portrait guarding their Common Room, and she uttered the password, "I'm off to talk to Ravyn some more. Go see if you can find out any more information." With that, she swept in, tray still in hands, and made for the girls' dormitory. Warrington stared after her slightly swaying hips for a moment, then grinned to himself as he sat down on a couch to watch Kevin Bole and Kate Le Fay's game of Exploding Snap.  
  
All in all, that had been very entertaining.  
  
~~~  
  
More soon! 


	4. Enemy Secrets of State

Chapter 4!  
  
Disclaimers apply. I own Fallon. Try to steal her at your own risk. You might end up in the hospital with acute cyanide poisoning and a broken collarbone.  
  
~~~  
  
Fallon went to the 5th year girls' dormitory with her tray of food. Ravyn was still sulking, although she gratefully accepted the food that Fallon brought her.  
  
"So, you didn't finish telling me what was wrong," Fallon said as she poured her friend a cup of tea.  
  
Ravyn gave a little sniffle, "He's CHEATING on me, the bloody wanker!"  
  
"With PARKINSON?! That's rich... why the devil would he do such a thing?"  
  
"I don't know," Ravyn gave a discontented sigh as she spooned some of the requisite post-lover's-spat-soul-food ice cream into her pouting mouth. "I walked in, and there he was, lying on the bloody couch, her on top of him, his hands on her shoulders. I don't UNDERSTAND! She's got the face of a PUG!"  
  
"Not to mention the intelligence level of a narcoleptic flobberworm," Fallon muttered. "Did you ask him about it?"  
  
"Of course I did! I asked him 'Draco Malfoy, what the bloody sodding HELL do you think you're DOING with that floozy?!'"  
  
"And?"  
  
"And he got all snippy and told me that he was doing nothing! But I SAW them snogging!" Ravyn wailed, "What's the MATTER with him?"  
  
"How am I supposed to know?" Fallon shrugged, "No blinking clue right now... but if I find anything out, I'll let you know, hmm? Now finish your dinner."  
  
"All right," Ravyn picked up her sandwich and took a delicate bite, chewed, then swallowed, "And Fallon... "  
  
"Yes, if I truly find that he is as much of a bastard as you feel he is, I WILL kick him in the groin. With high heels," Fallon rolled her eyes slightly as she reassured her friend.  
  
"Thanks, you're the best."  
  
"PLEASE don't mention it," Fallon sneered somewhat. The girls giggled, and Fallon left to let Ravyn finish her sulking and her dinner in peace.  
  
***  
  
The next afternoon found Cassius Warrington sitting in the library, working on an assignment for an essay for Transfiguration and looking up the easiest way to change a robe into a rosebush, when he heard two familiar female voices about a shelf away from him.  
  
"So, Dracie is going to go with me now, I can FEEL it!" A mincing, shrill squeal. Parkinson. Warrington raised an eyebrow, and stopped writing and turning the pages of his book. That area of the library was entirely silent except for Pansy's conversation.  
  
"Oh?" A lower, grunting voice, also female, somewhat obtuse. Millicent Bulstrode, "Di' he tell ya that? Really?"  
  
Pansy gave a sniff, "Well, not yet... but he's no longer with that De Borgia bint! She saw me snogging him, and then they had this fight!" The girl's voice was maliciously gleeful, "He'll want ME now!"  
  
"Oh... great," Millicent grunted in reply, "Say, d'ya know how ta make that potion that makes hair look more shiny?"  
  
"No idea," Pansy sniffed again, "I have certainly never needed it. Anderson would know, but I HATE her. She's such a horrid bitch, and a slut too! That Hufflepuff Chaser Marsden wants in her knickers! I'll bet that ALL she does is make cosmetic potions to make herself look pretty! Ugh... I HATE that bint! ALL she does is flaunt herself like a whore and make potions and make people suffer! I hope that her cauldron blows up someday in her face and burns her hair off!"  
  
The voices then died off, and Cassius Warrington was left sitting there, eyes narrowed.  
  
INTERESTING... so it was as Fallon had deduced, and Parkinson had snogged Malfoy. What a stupid bint! And the remarks about Fallon... All right, so Fallon WAS rather... difficult at times. But who was Parkinson to call her a slut, when she herself was 'flaunting' herself in front of Draco Malfoy in such a sick-making manner? And Pansy wasn't a tenth as attractive as Fallon... not that HE noticed how attractive Fallon was, of course! As for potions... well, what was wrong with a girl being good at that? Better a girl with a sharp mind than an empty-headed twit who drove a bloke nutters with her inane giggling! And as for that Hufflepuff Chaser... well, if Fallon didn't make it QUITE clear to the bastard that she was uninterested...  
  
All right, he would STOP thinking about Fallon BEFORE he decided to get all daft and protective of her. He really didn't care, it was not his business, and besides, the girl could take care of herself.  
  
But the other information that he had heard... he would have to tell her. Yes. He had Quidditch practice that night... but afterwards, they should talk.  
  
***  
  
Fallon Anderson was in the greenhouse, occupied with harvesting Angelica leaves to make a heart-strengthening potion, when a tawny owl flew in and dropped a note in her hand. Placing the last of the Angelica leaves in her basket, Fallon unrolled the small piece of parchment.  
  
Written in a large, forcible scrawl, were the words, "Quidditch pitch, nine o'clock".  
  
~~~  
  
Lalalala! More to come! 


	5. Adventures of the Air Force

Chapter 5!  
  
We've gone over the damn disclaimer. Moving onward!  
  
~~~  
  
At five minutes to nine, Fallon Anderson was sitting in the spectator stands of the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the Slytherin team to finish their practice.  
  
That year, they were using a new Chaser, with Flint gone. Fallon surveyed 5th year Julian Moon with a critical, knowledgeable eye as he flew around the pitch with the rest of the team. Moon was not bad. Now... he didn't have the finesse or the experience of Warrington and Montague, but that was only to be expected. The trick would be for the others to train him up properly. It would not do for him to become the team's "weakest link".  
  
Of course, none of the players could be the "weakest link". Including new captain Malfoy. Who had not seen the snitch yet. Fallon glanced at her silver wristwatch. Two minutes after nine o'clock, and it was quite cold outside. She cast a warming charm and drew her fur-lined cloak closer around her body.  
  
The Chasers practiced the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, and Fallon's discerning eye noticed Moon faltering a tiny bit. Montague, ever the helpful one, flew over and had a few words with Moon, and the Chasers did their maneuver again, this time flawlessly. Fallon smiled as she watched them. It was dark, but the silver lining of the Slytherin Quidditch robes stood out in the moonlight. Her team was really quite good.  
  
Finally, another ten minutes later, Malfoy caught the snitch, and dismissed the team. The Slytherin Seeker, scowling, stalked off for the castle looking neither right nor left, not waiting for his teammates to join him. Obviously, Malfoy was not in the mood for company.  
  
Fallon felt a breeze ruffle her hair, and Warrington landed next to her, dismounting and sitting down next to her. "Hello, you."  
  
"Hello yourself," Fallon greeted him coolly, "Malfoy still seems to be in a bad mood."  
  
"Astute observation," Warrington said with a roll of his eyes, "To say that he has been sulky doesn't even come close. And he's generally faster at finding the Snitch."  
  
"Well, he's stuck in a messy situation. Ravyn says that he's cheating on her, and once again, wanted me to give my word that if I feel he deserves it, to hurt him severely."  
  
"Pansy snogged him, not the other way around," Warrington said matter-of-factly, looking at Fallon, ethereal and captivating in the moonlight. The girl was unconsciously rubbing her hands together.   
  
Raising an eyebrow very slightly, he removed his Quidditch gloves, putting them in his pocket, and took her hands in his. "How long have you been out here, Anderson?" He asked, holding her small, cold hands in his larger, warmer ones.  
  
"About fifteen minutes, and let me go," Fallon replied, making as to retract her hands. He held them tighter and rubbed them briskly with his own.  
  
"Trying to warm you up, that's all," he grinned at her. She raised an eyebrow, studiously ignoring the chill that shot up her spine when his hands caressed hers, that had nothing to do with the weather. She watched in silence as he rubbed her hands a minute longer, then blinked as he raised her hands to his lips and blew warm air on them.  
  
"Ummm...?" For once, Fallon had no idea what to say. She was just about to snatch her hands away (for him holding her hands like that... that MUST be the cause of her lack-of-things-to-say... or whatever), when he brought her right hand to his lips and laid a lingering kiss on her knuckles.  
  
A moment later, he grinned and dropped her hands unsentimentally. "All warm now, let's go inside." Before Fallon could react, he had grabbed her around the waist and set her on his Nimbus 2001, before mounting behind her. A moment later, they were airborne, and he was zooming towards the broom shed, leaning slightly forward, his arms reaching past her hands and gripping the broomstick, his chin touching her shoulder. They were going at a dizzying speed, and Fallon's eyes were wide. What... in... the...  
  
And then, her feet brushed the ground, and they stopped. Somewhat shakily, Fallon got off the broom, and watched, speechless, as Warrington carelessly put it away in the broom shed. Finally, after he'd locked the broom shed, she found her voice back.  
  
"What... was... that?"  
  
Warrington gave her a confuddled look, "A broomstick."  
  
"I know THAT! I MEANT... what was..." Fallon threw the hands that he'd been caressing into the air in frustration, and gave an aggravated sigh, "Never mind. What did you wish to talk to me about?"  
  
"All business as usual, Anderson," Warrington said blandly, but before she could retort anything in response, he answered her question, "I overheard Parkinson and Bulstrode in the library today."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Parkinson was gloating about breaking up Malfoy and De Borgia. And was of the opinion that Malfoy would come crawling to her in a few days. Then the discussion went on to cosmetic potions, and somehow degenerated into insulting you," Warrington scowled somewhat as the two of them walked towards the castle, "And gossiping about some Hufflepuff Chaser Marsden who apparently wants in your knickers."  
  
Fallon rolled her eyes, "Excellent. Remind me to break Marsden's nose for 'wanting in my knickers', as you say. And to make Parkinson suffer for talking about such shite." They had reached the door, and she flung it open, walking in, "So... more or less, I gather that Parkinslut snogged Malfoy, Ravyn caught them, it looked bad, and she jumped to conclusions. Now... to figure out a way to work this out."  
  
"Indeed... " Warrington shut the door behind them, "It's not like they're going to talk to each other about the situation. They're ignoring each other and all that teenage angsty stuff."  
  
"Obviously," Fallon deadpanned, "We'll have to go about this and make them realize the truth some other way..."  
  
"Make Pansy confess, perhaps?"  
  
Fallon halted in her tracks, and whirled around to look at Warrington. Slowly, a wicked smile of pure, unadulterated evil bloomed across her face.  
  
Cassius Warrington slowly took a step back, looking at her warily, "Dare I ask what you are plotting?"  
  
Fallon waltzed up to him and gave him a bear hug, like she might have done to any of her female friends. Before he could react, she had pulled away, still smiling that alarming, feral grin.  
  
"Thank you for the hint... this should be GOOD... " She stood back, dignity back in place except for the maniacal gleam in her eyes, "Now... meet me at the library tomorrow afternoon, at the table close to the restricted session, at three. There is lots to do!"  
  
And as a bemused Warrington watched, walking behind her, she floated back to their Common Room.  
  
~~~  
  
Funness ensues! More on the way! 


	6. Gathering Ammunition

Chapter 6!  
  
Blah. Disclaimer. Blah  
  
~~~  
  
Having learnt his lesson somewhat from the incident with the rolling pin in the kitchens, Cassius Warrington entered the library at ten minutes to three. With purposeful strides, he made his way towards the back of the library, to the table where Fallon had told him to meet her.  
  
As it was a Saturday and they did not have any classes, she was not in school robes and uniform. She wore a black, somewhat slinky robe that bared her shoulders and had long, loose, sheer sleeves. The garment was form-fitting from bust to hips, then flared out somewhat, with openings on the sides to mid-thigh. She was reading, her face hidden behind a book entitled "Seldom-Brewed but Highly Useful Potions" by Zelma Mosley, two dainty feet, clad in high-heeled boots, crossed at the ankles and propped on the table. From his excellent vantage point, he could see glimpses of smooth, black-lace-stocking-clad legs through the openings of her robe.  
  
Fallon turned a page in her book, but did not look at him in any way. Calmly, she spoke, "If you're QUITE finished staring... I've a plan."  
  
Warrington pulled his attention away of trying to see which angle gave him the best view of her legs and walked closer to the table. Fallon, to his great chagrin, removed her legs from the table and sat upright, finally setting the book down to look at him. He sat down across from her, and looked at her curiously. "So, what is the plan?"  
  
"This," she lay her book down open and flat on the table, and slid it slightly across the table for him to see. He glanced down, and grimaced slightly.  
  
"'The Strongest Legal Truth Potion'... looks bloody complicated. Where the devil are you going to get these ingredients, anyway?"  
  
She smiled at him, "Most of them can be found either in the greenhouse, or can be gotten from Snape. The others... that's where I will need your help."  
  
He gave her a dubious look, "If it involves me performing sexual favors for any eccentric apothecary owners, I will have to politely refuse."  
  
Fallon rolled her eyes and scoffed, "As if... don't flatter yourself. It's actually quite simple. You just have to place the orders for some things."  
  
"Oh," Warrington said slowly, "And why can't YOU do that?"  
  
"You've just turned eighteen. I'm still sixteen. I'd have to get permission, and we don't have that much time to spare for me to owl my parents," Fallon spoke impatiently, "I hope that's not too hard to understand."  
  
"I see," Warrington nodded thoughtfully, "Well... what do I order, where from, and how much will it cost?"  
  
"I've got the cost covered," Fallon rolled her eyes, "Just get a bloody sheet of parchment and I'll dictate to you the orders."  
  
***  
  
Three dictated orders later, the two schemers left the library, Fallon with her book tucked under her arm, and made their way towards the Owlery. "All right... one can be sent using your owl, one can be sent using mine, and the other, we'll use a school owl." Warrington said calmly, taking one of the notes and tying it onto the leg of his tawny owl. Fallon nodded, and was already in the process of tying another parchment to the leg of a fierce-looking screech owl a short distance from him. After both their owls had flown off, the third order was tied to the leg of a school gray owl, and they left the Owlery.  
  
"All right... now what?" Warrington asked her. She pursed her lip thoughtfully, and glanced through the book again.  
  
"All right... to the Greenhouse. I need to gather Chervil buds, rosemary and white sage leaves, and snapdragon flowers," Fallon said, already pushing open the door to one of the Herbology greenhouses, and making a beeline for a plant with oddly shaped pink flowers. Reaching up to her hair, she pulled out the long silver pin that held it in a bun, and Warrington was not entirely surprised to see that it was actually a decorative stiletto. Her hair tumbled down as she bent slightly to cut away several of the flowers.  
  
The excursion to the Greenhouse was fairly short, and soon, with a flower pot transfigured into a box filled with the necessary plants in Fallon's purse, the two stepped out and headed back towards the school.  
  
"Hello there, gorgeous."  
  
Fallon stopped walking at the voice, and swore softly in Latin. Turning around, she fixed an icy, derisive sneer on the person who had addressed her.  
  
"If you want to die, you can just tell me. No need to go in such a roundabout manner," she hissed.  
  
The fellow was none other than the Chaser Marsden that Warrington had heard Pansy gossiping about that other day at the library.  
  
"Fal... why must you be so difficult?"  
  
"The name is FALLON. But you're a Hufflepuff. I forget... a concept so complex as a two-syllable name would be too hard for you to comprehend. But bugger off unless you want to end up in the infirmary."  
  
"Oh, you should just give me a chance... it's not like you have any other bloke to date," Marsden said in a condescending voice, and Fallon seethed. How DARE he? Condescend to a SLYTHERIN!  
  
But before she could say anything particularly scathing, Warrington, standing behind her, spoke up, his voice a cold and menacing snarl, "She's not interested, wanker. And it would be in your best interests not to persist in any such thoughts of her."  
  
Marsden looked startled for a moment, then laughed somewhat, "Fallon... you're shagging... HIM?"  
  
"Would it be any of your bloody business if I were?" Fallon's eyes were blazing, and quite deliberately, she stepped closer to Warrington, until she felt his chest against her back. He obligingly put an arm around her waist, the other arm at his side, wand in hand. Fallon sneered at the Hufflepuff chaser, and coolly twirled her stiletto in one hand.  
  
"You've two seconds to remove yourself from our presence. If you do not... you might just find yourself lacking a few vital appendages. And unable to father children," she spat.  
  
Unwilling to face the wrath of two angry Slytherins, the Hufflepuff 6th-year left at a fairly quick pace. Fallon glared at the boy's retreating back for a moment before stepping away from Warrington.  
  
"Bloody bastard..." they both spoke at the same time. Then, staring at each other in surprise, they both burst out laughing, in the middle of the hallway.  
  
Finally, Fallon calmed down, though her eyes were still dancing merrily despite the irritating encounter with the presumptuous imbecile.  
  
"All right... to Snape's office. I just need to get some Jobberknoll feathers from him. And then... the potion ingredients we ordered should not take longer than two days to arrive. And then... Operation Extreme Public Humiliation will be officially under way!"   
  
An hour later, Warrington, watching as the girl, snugly ensconced in an armchair by the fire, nibbled at the end of a sugar quill as she scribbled notes on a piece of parchment, reflected that it had been... not bad so far.  
  
Fallon Anderson wasn't always pathologically violent.   
  
Hmm... perhaps their friends should get into spats more often.  
  
At that moment, a flying pillow from the other side of the room, where a Slytherin 4th year had been trying to cast a Banishing Charm, hit her on the arm, knocking her quill out of her hands. Fallon leapt up, and proceeded to berate the squirming, cowering younger student in very loud and sarcastic tones.  
  
All right... so perhaps she would always be... tempery.  
  
Oh well, it was still interesting.  
  
~~~  
  
More later! 


	7. Reconnaissance Mission

Chapter 7!  
  
[insert disclaimer here/]  
  
~~~  
  
Two days.  
  
Two days of waiting for potions supplies to arrive. Two days of watching Parkinson flirt with Malfoy, to no avail. Two days of watching Ravyn De Borgia sulk.  
  
Two days of watching his partner-in-crime go about preparing for the public exposure and humiliation of her friend's rival.   
  
Fallon had indeed been quite busy.  
  
A few weeks ago, on an uncharacteristically benevolent urge, Fallon had stopped Crabbe and Goyle perforce from beating up Neville Longbottom.  
  
There was a special, unspoken but very adhered-to system when it came to Slytherin and Gryffindor transactions and debts. The two houses rarely, if ever, helped each other out in any way, shape or form. But when a member of one DID in fact help out a member of the other, it was imperative that the "debt" was repaid as soon as possible, in full.  
  
There was no such thing as doing favors, except in very rare circumstances, and the return of a favor was not a matter of gratitude, but a matter of honor. A competition, almost.  
  
And so, the day after she and Cassius Warrington had gathered most of the supplies for making the truth potion, Fallon approached Harry Potter after the latter had finished his breakfast, to claim her favor.  
  
Potter had been somewhat easier to deal with this year than the previous ones. Having given up on Cho Chang once he'd realized that her heart belonged to someone else, he had set his sights elsewhere... and in fact the girl who had captured his attention had been none other than Xanne Malloy of Fallon's own house.  
  
The two were, of course, not together. It would still be a while before Potter would understand that having a green and silver tie did not automatically equate to a personality of a rabid acromantula. Xanne, though certainly possessed of the notable Slytherin cunning and equally notable Slytherin smirk, would not be a bad girlfriend. Fallon was sure that it would only be a matter of time.  
  
But right now, she put thoughts of Potter/Malloy relationships out of her mind, as she followed him out of the Great Hall. "Potter!"  
  
The 5th-year Gryffindor turned around at the sound of his name being called, and his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion when he saw that it was the infamous Slytherin bitch-queen, who even drove members of her own house to terror at times, who addressed him. "What do you want?"  
  
Fallon walked towards the younger boy, "I need a favor. Simple, really... and no, it won't be something that will have negative repercussions on any members of your house."  
  
Potter still looked suspicious, and Fallon sighed exasperatedly. "I'm not going to do anything that can POSSIBLY have bad effects on anyone who you don't hate. I just need to borrow your Invisibility cloak."  
  
"What are you going to do with it?" Potter asked warily.  
  
"None of your business," Fallon scowled, "Will you, or won't you, Potter?"  
  
Harry Potter looked rather torn, and Fallon was about to storm off, when at that moment, luckily for her, Xanne Malloy came out of the Great Hall, and joined Fallon in the corridor.  
  
Potter blushed slightly as Xanne gave him a smile, "Hullo."  
  
"Hello Harry," Xanne said politely, before turning to Fallon with a sigh, "You need to go back in there. Malfoy's not doing anything to control his goons, being the sulky git that he is, and the two're bothering Persephone. They're actually afraid of you... like the rest of the school, perhaps. But there you have it. After that time you nearly dislocated Goyle's jaw when he was picking on that kid with the toad... well, go and do something!"  
  
Fallon rolled her eyes, and walked briskly back into the Great Hall. Xanne waved at Potter, and followed her friend back in.  
  
The matter of the invisibility cloak was forgotten until later that day, Fallon found the item folded up neatly in a package, delivered by a snowy owl.   
  
***  
  
That evening, under the cover of the cloak, Fallon followed Pansy and Millicent to the washroom, where the two would be prone to spending hours on end trying (and failing) to make themselves look more attractive.  
  
This was the time to unearth dirty secrets.  
  
Casting a temporary muting charm on her throat, Fallon stood by the door of the washroom, and, for the next hour or so, laughed so hard that her sides ached.  
  
Finally, after about fifty minutes of gossiping, Pansy and Millicent left the washroom. Fallon, after finally managing to catch her breath about ten minutes later, composed herself, and walked back to the Common Room after stowing the cloak safely in a drawer in her room. Face twitching, she walked over to where Warrington was sitting at a table, working on a Charms essay. He looked up when she approached, and noticed her strange expression.  
  
"You look like you've just found out that McGonagall has a tattoo of a winged pig on her back."  
  
Fallon sniggered, "Not quite... but let's just say that if I were paid to keep all the information that I've found out hush-hush, I'd have enough money to purchase a country estate complete with a Quidditch pitch."  
  
"Another one?"  
  
"Yes... or maybe even two," Fallon gave what could only be described as a maniacal cackle. "When the time comes, do us all a favor and cast a Sonorus Charm so that the entire school will be able to hear."  
  
Warrington laughed and shook his head slightly, "Even the Gryffindors?"  
  
"ESPECIALLY the Gryffindors," Fallon smirked.  
  
"You're evil."  
  
"Why, thank you," Fallon said graciously, "You're so kind."  
  
"Hey! I resent that!"  
  
~~~  
  
More soon! 


	8. Preparation for Battle

Chapter 8!  
  
Disclaimer: Once Fallon is done with him, Warrington won't be returned in mint condition. Sorry. Well... actually, I'm not sorry. *cackles*  
  
~~~  
  
The ingredients were all set. Fallon, armed with a small, collapsible cauldron filled with potions ingredients and cups and tubes of various sizes, as well as a small knife, made her way towards the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room. "Cassius Warrington, get your arse over here!"  
  
Warrington lazily stood up from where he'd been lounging on the couch, reading "Quidditch Through the Ages" by Kennilworthy Whisp, and walked over towards where Fallon stood by the door of the Common Room. "What do you need, Anderson?"  
  
"Someone to carry this stuff, obviously." Fallon unceremoniously shoved the cauldron into his arms, then grabbed his sleeve, pulling him towards the door. Warrington rolled his eyes, and followed her out.  
  
"Where are you going with that? Why can't you make it in the Common Room?" Warrington asked her curiously.   
  
"Because the cauldron needs to burn on an extremely hot fire for the potion to be potent. I'm going to have to make it in the Potions lab." Fallon walked straight towards Snape's classroom. Soon, arriving at the door, she extracted a key from her pocket, and fit it into the keyhole. The latch glowed emerald for a moment, then the door opened. Fallon muttered an "Incendio", and the room lit up.  
  
Warrington raised an eyebrow, "Where'd you get the key?"  
  
"From Snape's office, of course," Fallon answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"He lets you have his key?" Warrington asked in surprise, "Good at potions or not, you're a student."  
  
"My class is his last of the day. I offered to bring the leftover essence of hellebore to his office. He gave me his key, and I transfigured a hairpin into a duplicate," Fallon said airily, "Not THAT difficult, really."  
  
"You're crazy," he informed her matter-of-factly. She merely grinned and walked over to one of the labs. He followed, and set her things down on the bench, "All right, is that all, your highness?"  
  
Fallon pouted prettily, "So eager to leave me, are you?"  
  
Warrington paused, and blinked for a moment, before smirking, "You're flirting with me."  
  
"Just getting back at you, for staring at my legs in the library that other day," Fallon said lightly, "I should hit you for that."  
  
"Ooh... kinky."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Make me," he leered at her. The common invitation for a snog.  
  
Fallon gracefully stood up from where she had been sitting, and, hips swaying, walked over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and sitting him down on a chair. Slowly, she unwrapped the black chiffon scarf that she'd worn over her robes, and daintily straddled his lap. His face took on a look of pleasant surprise, then he leered in expectation. She grinned wickedly, and leaned over.  
  
AND GAGGED HIM WITH HER SCARF!  
  
"You told me to make you shut up."  
  
Laughing merrily at the gagged, spluttering, wide-eyed Warrington sitting in his seat, she got up from his lap and walked over towards her cauldron and started to work, soon wholly absorbed in her work.  
  
Cassius Warrington unknotted the scarf from around his mouth, and, all notions of leaving forgotten, fixed his attention on the spunky wench who was cheerily slicing sage leaves a few seats away. Her cauldron was simmering, occasionally emitting clouds of icy, almost wintery-scented smoke, despite the temperature. She added the sage leaves, and the room grew much warmer.  
  
Fallon, bent over the steaming, sweltering cauldron, unfastened the buttons of her robe, and quickly pinned her hair up into a messy bun, using her wand as a hairpin to hold it in place. Warrington stared.  
  
Neck, collarbone... all bare. She wore nothing under the robe except a tiny green satin camisole. The opened robe gave him a very... good view. A view that became even better when, after she had added the rosemary leaves to the potion and the room became even warmer, she shrugged off the robe entirely. He could see delicate, slender black bra straps.   
  
Warrington felt his palms start sweating, and forced himself to glance away for a moment. All right... all right. Let us remember who this is. Fallon Anderson. Evil crazy maniacal sadistic Slytherin bitch. She who smites. The high-heeled-groin-kicker. Knife-wielding man-hater. Sharp-tempered and sharp-tongued. Bad. Bad. Bad. VERY bad.   
  
Who just happened to lift an arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Making the tiny shirt she wore shift just so.  
  
Bloody... bloody...... Fallon. Heinous. Scary....  
  
Well, all right, so she was fun to be around. Even if a little... well, a lot... aggressive. The sharp tongue was quite entertaining. And... most of her bitchy behavior was directed towards those of other houses, and generally she had a reason for it. And she was clever. And... her shirt just shifted again.  
  
And he was obviously going mad.  
  
Slinking down in his chair, he picked up the copy of "Quidditch Through the Ages" and put it in front of his face. Upside down.  
  
An agonizing hour later, she finally bottled up her truth potion, and cleared off any mess that she'd made. Putting the robe back on, she washed her hands and glanced at her oddly silent companion. "Hey, you asleep or something? We're leaving."  
  
Warrington sat up with a start at her words, and hastily put his book down. She was looking back at him, her cauldron now clean and holding only a few empty containers and a bottle of truth potion. She had her robes back on, and buttoned completely up.  
  
This was bad. When he knew what was under them. Bad.  
  
He stood up, and took the cauldron from her wordlessly.   
  
"Why, thank you," she said in a slightly mocking voice, before extinguishing the lights and walking out of the Potions lab, locking the door behind her. He followed, silent.  
  
They reached the Common Room entrance, and she spoke the password before walking in, taking the cauldron from him with a curious look. "You're awfully quiet. And you're not even gagged any more."  
  
"Er... I'm all right," Warrington swallowed, then grinned, "Would you rather I snipe at you?"  
  
She rolled her eyes and hit him playfully on the arm, "I was just rather surprised. You had finally learnt to shut up after seven long years. It's near uncanny, you know."  
  
"Sorry to scare you, love," he purred, "I won't do it again."  
  
"You're doing it right now," she retorted, "Since when did you call me 'love'? That's scary."  
  
He laughed as she whirled around and walked off to put away her potions paraphernalia, then frowned slightly. All right. Now, for a cold shower. To clear his muddled head, of course.  
  
~~~  
  
Bwahaha! More to come! 


	9. Operation Extreme Public Humiliation

Chapter 9!  
  
Disclaimer: |-|4RR'/ P0773R 15|\|'7 |\/|||\|3. VV4RR1|\|670|\| 15 |\/|'/ |317(|-|. 1 VV15|-|. BWAHAHAHA.  
  
~~~  
  
The next day, Fallon went to breakfast in the Great Hall with a huge smile on her face. This was it. It was time!  
  
A moment later, Cassius Warrington, rubbing his eyes blearily, walked over to their table and plunked down next to her. Fallon looked at him strangely, "You look tired."  
  
"Didn't sleep much," he muttered, yawning and reaching for the coffee pot. Sleepy or not, he was not as witless as to tell her that his sleeplessness had been due to thinking about the little potion-making escapade last night. Silently, he sipped a cup of coffee, and as the caffeine started to take effect, he turned back to look at her, his eyes more alert.  
  
"All right, so I shall distract Parkinson, and you should pour the potion into her drink," Fallon whispered, pushing a small vial into his hands. He looked at it quizzically.  
  
"Say, there was a whole cauldron-full..."  
  
"Yes, but after it cools, it separates into layers, the top being the distilled truth serum. This is the most potent part of it... and it's all we need," Fallon hissed back at him. He nodded, and the both of them ate their breakfasts in a hurry, before most of the other had arrived.  
  
Draco and Ravyn came into the Great Hall, looking at anything but each other, though both of them wore looks of sulky discontentment. Pansy, her hair freshly curled and so slathered with hair gel that it practically oozed flameability, flounced over, and sat down next to Draco. The boy wrinkled his nose and ordered Crabbe to sit in between him and Pansy, then moved his seat so that he was sitting next to Alexander Montague instead. The seat just happened to be across from Ravyn's, though that girl deliberately paid no heed.  
  
Fallon glanced at Cassius Warrington, and gave a discreet nod, then casually turned to Calypso, who was sitting next to her, and asked the fun-loving girl for the deck of Exploding Snap cards that she always carried. Calypso looked at her friend somewhat strangely, but handed the cards over, and Fallon started to shuffle them roughly.  
  
The cards sparked, and there was a bang, a spark landing in Pansy's heavily gelled coiffure. The blonde girl gave a squeal as one stiff curl started smoking, and Crabbe helpfully doused her with his pumpkin juice, effectively putting out the flame, but soaking the girl's hair and face. Pansy shrieked in outrage, and slapped him. At the Head Table, McGonagall gave them a piercing, rebuking look, and Pansy glowered before sitting back down, and taking a sip from her glass of milk.  
  
Fallon glanced at Cassius Warrington, who nodded back at her. She smiled, and glanced at her watch. Good... it should take no more than thirty seconds for the potion to take full effect.  
  
A moment later, Fallon stood up, as did Warrington. The latter held out his wand, saying "Sonorus!" as the latter walked over to where Pansy sat, her face blank and dazed-looking.  
  
"Good day, Pansy," Fallon's smooth voice could be heard by the entire hallful of students and teachers, "Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Yes. You're Fallon Anderson, and you're a bitch. I HATE you," Pansy's voice was toneless. Fallon smirked, as the entire hall quieted, all eyes riveted upon the exchange.  
  
"Why, thank you, I appreciate the kind sentiments. Now... is it, or is it not true, that you shagged Goyle once in an effort to ingratiate yourself into Draco Malfoy's good books, but then abandoned that scheme when you realized that Goyle had less brains than you have tits?"  
  
"Yes, it is true. But I DO have tits. They're just fake."  
  
Laughter burst out amongst the students, and Fallon let them chuckle for a moment before clearing her throat and continuing her interrogation, "Oh, so does that mean that if I kick you there while wearing high heels, I would possibly rupture some sort of Muggle saltwater balloon thing?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Excellent, I will keep that in mind. Now, Pansy... tell me what happened several days ago, when you were caught snogging Draco Malfoy by Ravyn De Borgia?"  
  
"She called me a cheap floozy and Draco and her had a row."  
  
"Did Draco snog you back when you snogged him?"  
  
"No. He didn't snog me back. He was trying to push me off when Ravyn walked in. But I'm heavy, so it was hard for him to do."  
  
"I see," Fallon said lazily, a predatory smile on her face, "And how many times have you propositioned Draco before?"  
  
"Counting that time, 241."  
  
"Did you ever succeed?"  
  
"No. He called me a phony, air-headed pug-face."  
  
"I see." Fallon was just about to launch into another question when a slight movement towards her right caused her to turn. And then, she watched in silent amusement and surprise as Ravyn leapt up from her seat and flung herself into Draco's arms, and, very much in public, the two made up.  
  
This seemed to bring the spellbound rest of the school out of their silent shock, and McGonagall, glasses flashing furiously, took twenty points from Slytherin House for unruly horseplay in the Great Hall. Fallon simply sneered at the Transfiguration teacher and shrugged.   
  
The mission was completed, and a smashing success. She glanced over the drenched head of the still-dazed Pansy Parkinson at Cassius Warrington, and gave him a brilliant, genuine smile. She was just about to walk over when Ravyn, her pretty face now ecstatic as opposed to the scowl she'd worn for the past few days, ran over and gave her a hug. Fallon hugged her back, and then turned to Xanne, drawing something light and silvery out of her pocket.  
  
"Xanne, do me a favor and give this back to Potter. With my... thanks."  
  
The younger girl, smiling saucily, gracefully made her way to the Gryffindor table, and impertinently sat down right across from Harry Potter, sitting down between the two Weasley twins. "Fallon appreciates the loan," she purred. Potter nodded, his mouth twitching, then, giving another look at the Slytherin table, where Fallon had sit down, smirking hugely, next to Slytherin Chaser Warrington, he started to applaud.  
  
And the Slytherin trouble-makers found themselves getting a standing ovation.  
  
All in all, it had been a hilariously entertaining breakfast.  
  
~~~  
  
Okay! One more chapter, and that's it! 


	10. Victorious Allies

Chapter Last!  
  
Disclaimer: I shall smite thee if thou sueth!  
  
~~~  
  
The day passed in a blaze of glory and splendor and hilarity. Both Fallon Anderson and Cassius Warrington found themselves treated with a mixture of veneration and fear. Well... not that this was particularly unusual. But even more so.  
  
Pansy Parkinson, after the truth potion had worn off, had been furious. If the laughter and strange looks that she had received from others was not enough, Draco Malfoy and Ravyn De Borgia seemed to be surgically attached at the lips. Again. And her hair was sticky with pumpkin juice.  
  
She had lunged herself at Fallon, only to be casually and lightly flipped on her back in the middle of the hallway, and then had lain there on the ground, as Fallon had walked away without a care in the world, and with a smile on her face.  
  
Of course, all of this made it quite natural for her to be in an unusually good and happy mood at the end of the day, and when she walked out of History of Magic and seen her partner in crime in the hallway, she had greeted him quite graciously.  
  
Meaning, she did not glare at him.  
  
"That was fun, wasn't it?" Fallon said to him jovially. He laughed.  
  
"Well... at least Malfoy and Ravyn aren't being sullen brats any more."  
  
"Malfoy's still a brat," Fallon said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Well yes... obviously. But he's acting his shoe size, and not his ring size. It's an improvement."  
  
"I suppose... say, thanks for the help," Fallon leaned against the wall, cocking her head slightly, and gracing him with a genuine smile, "As much as it pains me to say this... it's been a pleasure. Ick... that sounds too sappy. Well, whatever."  
  
She wrinkled her nose slightly, and Warrington found himself grinning, and realizing that, when she was so inclined, Fallon Anderson could be quite charming. In her own unusual, intense, somewhat scary but oddly seductive way.  
  
He needed to bring that side out more often. And he needed to see more of her. Because... well, in the very least, things would never be boring. And moreover... she was QUITE easy on the eyes.  
  
"We should work together more often," he remarked. She rolled her eyes and grimaced. Not a mean grimace, but a good-natured one. He somehow found that he could discern that.  
  
"We'd kill each other," she chuckled, "I'm surprised we haven't killed each other during the course of this mission."  
  
"You did throw a rolling pin at me," he reminded her solemnly. She gave an unladylike snort.  
  
"And you deserved it, you git! You were LATE!" She crossed her arms and glared up at him, arched eyebrows drawn together in a frown, dark eyes flashing with ire, perfect lips pursed in a disapproving scowl. And his smile widened.  
  
"You're not scaring me, Anderson," he informed her calmly, his eyes glinting with amusement and something that she could not quite place, but somehow made her feel unnaturally happy and nervous at the same time, not that she showed any of that on her face. Her frown deepened, and she advanced on him, hands on hips.   
  
Cassius Warrington laughed as Fallon stalked towards him, looking outraged, her hands on her hips, her lips in a pout under her flashing eyes, and, perhaps possessed in some way or another, his heart was overwhelmed with an almost Gryffindorish spurt of insane, impulsive courage. Holding out his arms, he caught the girl up as she walked towards him, and held her close to him, lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder, laughing all the while.  
  
Fallon suddenly found herself in his arms, her feet entirely off the ground, her torso hanging over his shoulder, as he strode quickly towards the Slytherin Common Room. Flailing her arms, she shrieked, "PUT ME DOWN, you oaf! Where the hell are you taking me?"  
  
He only laughed harder as he sped up, "Back to the Common Room, which is empty right now... "  
  
"Well put me down, then! I can WALK, you know!"  
  
"But this is so FUN! And you can't run away if I'm holding you," he replied promptly.  
  
"What the devil are you going about, you swarthy git?" Fallon demanded, somewhat breathless as he ran down the stairs leading to the Dungeons.  
  
"You can't run if I'm holding you the entire time," Warrington said again, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Argentum," he called out to the portrait, then walked in, with Fallon still in his arms, "I've got you... and I'm not letting you go."  
  
"Well, you bloody better put me down!" Fallon squirmed and shouted at him, "You will NOT carry me around like this all day long!"  
  
"All right... as you wish," he spoke, and walked over towards a couch, then dropped her unceremoniously down onto the piece of furniture. He smiled as she sunk into the soft green velvet, her hair coming loose, her cheeks slightly flushed, eyes flashing furiously at him. His hands were still on her arms.  
  
"Why did you do that?"  
  
"Do what?" he asked innocently. She smacked his arm.  
  
"Carry me like a sack of potatoes into the Common Room, of course! It's not like we couldn't finish talking in the hallway."  
  
"But I didn't carry you here to talk," he said matter-of-factly, "I brought you here because no one else is around."  
  
She blinked, then stilled as he ran his hands slowly up her arms to her shoulders. "Is there something you needed to talk to me about that you didn't want to talk about in the hallway? Then you should just have asked, goodness! Carting me around... "  
  
"Oh, we're not going to be talking, sweet," one hand traveled from her shoulder inward until it reached her neck, and he ran a callused, surprisingly gentle finger down her neck, tracing from her earlobe to where skin met fabric, and she looked at him, wide-eyed.  
  
"Oh?" her voice was soft, almost tremulous.  
  
"I'm about to snog you senseless. Just thought you might want to know," he said bluntly, his finger now traveling back up the side of her neck to her chin, as he looked straight into her startled face with hooded, dark eyes. Those soft lips parted slightly for a moment, then she gave him a scowl.  
  
"And what makes you think that you can just--- mhmph!" Whatever she was about to say was cut off as he leaned forward and sealed his lips over hers, leaning her head back even as his hands pulled her lithe form close to his. Her eyes widened, and her lips involuntarily parted in surprise, and he pulled her even closer, deepening the kiss. And then her eyes closed, and she forgot all about shoving him away for doing such an impertinent, presumptuous thing. She was being crushed into the couch's velvet, but it didn't matter in the least. And evidently, there were things that could be done with tongues besides glib, snarky remarks...  
  
And then the Common Room entrance opened, and Ravyn walked in with Draco. And the girl gave a cheerful exclamation.  
  
"All right! I win the bet! I KNEW they'd snog before this term was over!"  
  
Draco scowled, "Bloody hell... Anderson and Warrington, going all hormonal in the ruddy Common Room... who'd've thought?"  
  
"Well... I win! So tomorrow you're going to the kitchens, and baking cookies!"  
  
"Blimey, woman! I'm NOT doing that!!"  
  
"Yes you are," Ravyn said in a sing-song voice. "It's chilly, it's foggy, the smart-arses are snoggy..."  
  
"They can go at it like rabbits for all I care... but I'm NOT baking!"  
  
"They" had been valiantly trying to ignore the fact that there was an audience, but Fallon found that she could not ignore Draco and Ravyn's little argument any longer. Springing up and pushing Warrington away, she straightened her robes and glowered at the blond boy, then huffed and pointed her wand at her dorm room, performing a Summoning Charm.  
  
"Here!" A book came flying out, landing in Draco's hand, "100 Easy Cookie Recipes! Now, bugger off and leave us alone!"  
  
Warrington gave what could only be called a triumphant laugh, as he stood up behind Fallon and put his arms around her slender waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You heard the lady, Malfoy... leave us. You owe us one anyway."  
  
A grinning Ravyn nodded, gave a quick thanks to Warrington and Fallon, and dragged her boyfriend out of the Common Room by the hand, giggling all the while.   
  
"Now... where were we?"  
  
"On the couch," she deadpanned. He gave her a roguish grin, and none-too-gently pushed her back onto the couch.  
  
"Don't SHOVE me, git! Of all the rude, obnoxious..."  
  
"You talk too much." He played with a strand of her hair, before caressing her cheek, "Shut up."  
  
She laughed at that, "Make me."  
  
And she was silenced, but not by means of a gag.  
  
~~~  
  
Done! 


End file.
